


A Waiting Game

by daisyisawriter91



Series: Don Winchester [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst with a Happy Ending, Doctor Jessica Moore, Hospitalization, M/M, Meg is a Good Bro, Mob Boss Henry Winchester, Worried Balthazar, all-nighters, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Balthazar must play the worst waiting game of his life in the hospital after Henry is shot.





	A Waiting Game

The lights faded in and out, nearly blinding Henry every time he opened his eyes. Everything was wrong, he was imprisoned. He needed to _get out_. Balthazar, something with Balthazar. An explosion? Nothing made sense.  
Why couldn’t he breathe? He needed to _breathe_. He was underwater, he was drowning, he needed to get to the top. But where was the top? _Where was it?_

 

Balthazar watched Henry get taken down the hall of the hospital, helplessly unable to follow.   
Seeing him already getting poked and prodded was difficult. They’d immediately attached an oxygen mask to him, and it looked wrong. A lot of words had been thrown around, none of which Balthazar understood. He couldn’t make sense of anything but the request to stay behind.   
The one Henry had fought was pronounced dead on sight. They hadn’t asked what’d happened. Only brought his body back to be examined.   
The rest of the mobsters that arrived with the man had fled. Balthazar hadn’t the foggiest where they’d gone, but he felt he couldn’t care about anything less. All he cared about was Henry. And he needed to wash his hands of Henry’s blood.  
He needed to call Meg, he reasoned, drying his hands. To let her know what’d happened. She’d be furious if she was left out of the loop. And there was nothing Balthazar could do for Henry, other than call his second-in-command. But Balthazar couldn’t find himself doing anything but fretting. Still, he pushed through, and dialed Meg. He was relieved when she picked up on the first ring.  
“ _What is it, Balthazar? Your boyfriend being too annoying? Believe me, I get it._ ” Meg said, teasingly.  
“Meg, listen to me. Henry was shot.” Balthazar interjected. There was a long stretch of silence, where Balthazar almost believe Meg had cut out.  
“ _What happened?_ ” She finally asked.  
And Balthazar told her everything as it happened. The bomb, the mobsters, the fight. Balthazar hadn’t been able to see all of it, but he’d heard the gun shot. He’d seen Henry fall to the ground, and it was the most haunting image he’d ever seen.  
When he’d finished explaining, Meg said she’d be there soon and hung up, leaving Balthazar alone. Utterly and entirely alone. Without anything else to do, he parked himself in the waiting room with his only company, the fear growing in his stomach.  
A few nurses and a couple surgeons came in, sporadically, and spoke with him for a while. They were nice distractions, but his mind was otherwise occupied. Meg came in and sat with him, but neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say. It was only 9 o’clock that someone came in that Balthazar wanted to see. The doctor he’d briefly seen with Henry, Jessica Moore.  
The doctor approached him with a chart in hand, and Balthazar stood up, expectantly, Meg matching him.  
“You two are with Mr. Winchester, right?” Doctor Moore asked.  
“Yes.” Balthazar answered, too afraid to say any more. Meg had no such problem.  
“How’s he doing? And you can skip the meds mumbo jumbo, give it to us, straight.” She asked.  
“He’s stable.” Doctor Moore started. Balthazar breathed a sigh of relief, but had a feeling she wasn’t finished. “He got incredibly lucky, the bullet enter his right pectoral, not his left. With the force of the bullet, it would’ve pierced his heart. As it is, it just missed his spine, and that’s the best we could’ve hoped for. If he stays this way for the rest of the night, we’re out of the woods.”  
“Is he awake?” Balthazar finally had the wherewithal to ask.  
“Not yet. He still needs a little help breathing, and he’s still heavily sedated. He’ll wake up in a few hours. But you can go see him, now, if you want.” Doctor Moore said, smiling, kindly.  
“Thank you.” Balthazar said, sincerely, before walking off to the room he’d seen Henry vanish into.   
There was another bed in it, but Balthazar didn’t care about the other person. He cared about the man in the far left bed, attached to several machines, in a hospital gown, and looking entirely foreign, yet so similar. His skin was pale, a thin layer of sweat he’d developed from the injury still clinging to him. His eyes were closed, but contrasted with all the other times Balthazar had seen Henry slipped, it looked _wrong_. An oxygen mask was over his face, and Balthazar wanted to cry from the sight.  
Meg walked into the room, looking down at Henry.  
“I’ve seen him at worse. He’ll live.” Meg declared, easily.  
“What’s worse than getting shot?” Balthazar asked.  
“Breaking out of a coffin underground with a knife sticking out of your leg and your hands behind your back is worse.” Meg answered. Balthazar looked at her, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. “Ask him to tell you about that time in London. It’s actually a pretty funny story.”  
Balthazar pushed the information to the side and walked to Henry’s side, leaning down near him.  
Henry was silent, only the sound of breathing came from him, magnified by the oxygen mask. But it wasn’t the peaceful, steady rhythm Balthazar was used to. Or the slightly broken pattern of Henry muttering between breaths, anything that popped into his head.  
Balthazar pulled up the nearest chair and sat beside his boyfriend, biting his lip.  
He stayed there the whole night, worry keeping him up. The doctor’s words stuck with him. “If he stays this way for the rest of the night, we’re out of the woods.” So, Balthazar was going to stay vigilant, the entire night.  
Meg came in and out, carrying fresh cups of coffee. She left the hospital sometime around 3 AM. It was fine. He didn’t expect her to stay. He was grateful to her for more than just the coffee. He didn’t know what they were, but she’d pulled a few strings to get him clearance to stay until Henry woke up. Balthazar couldn’t thank her enough.   
And Balthazar waited. Waited for a sign of life from Henry, more than just the odd breathing and the beep of the heart monitor.

 

It was dark. Way too dark. It’d been dark for way too long. Where were the lights? Why couldn’t he see? Why did everything feel wrong? _What was on his face?_  
Henry struggled, but found he couldn’t move. He needed to _move_. 

 

Light flooded in as his eyes flew open. He squinted against the sudden harshness against his retinas. It immediately registered that there was something on his face, something that was _not_ supposed to be there. He yanked it off, taking a gasping breath.  
Balthazar appeared in his line of sight, hands settling on Henry’s shoulders.   
“Henry! Henry, breathe. It’s okay, you’re safe.” He assured, gently.  
“Abaddon. It was her. How else could she have known? It was a trap, Balt. It was a trap set for me.” Henry rushed out, trying to control his breathing so as to be understood.  
“Okay, okay. And you can work that out when you’re calmer. You’re in the hospital. You were shot. Do you remember that?” Balthazar asked, slowly. Henry looked him straight in the eyes.  
“Of course I do. That lunatic, Ketch.” Henry answered, attempting to slow his heart rate. “Are you alright? Did the other side leave?”  
“I’m fine. And yes, there were no casualties, other than Ketch. And, almost, you.” Balthazar’s voice dropped as he added that bit on. “I was terrified for you, Henry.” And that was when Henry really looked at Balthazar. His eyes were bloodshot, framed by ever-growing bags. His skin was sallow, his posture was off, he was sleep-deprived.  
“I’m sorry to make you worry.” Henry apologized, reaching out with his left arm. His entire right side was in pain.  
“The only thing this night made me realize was how much…how much I don’t want to lose you.” Balthazar confided. “I only have one life. And you seem to be having a shorter one than most. That’s why I’m not afraid to say this. I love you.”   
It was the first time Henry had ever heard that from a lover. Balthazar was Henry’s first in many ways.  
“I love you, too.” And Henry knew, as he said it, it was the truth. “Abaddon…She set this trap for me, using you as bait. Ordinarily, I never would’ve fallen for it. But the idea of you getting hurt…it drove me insane.” Henry rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “I can’t believe I was such an idiot. I know Abaddon’s ways all too well. I taught them to her, for Christ’s sake.” Balthazar didn’t comment, obviously confused. “As soon as I get out of here, I’m going to find her, and make her regret ever using you as bait.”  
“That’s all well and good, darling, but you’re still in a hospital bed.” Balthazar pointed out. “Rest for now. You can get started on your crusade against this ‘Abaddon’ woman when you’re done.”  
“You should go home, too, Balthazar.” Henry suggested.  
Balthazar sat on the chair next to Henry’s bed and sighed. “Astonishingly, darling, it seems I already am.”


End file.
